


in this universe or any other

by itstimetoscream



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: 20s au, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Historical, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29034282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itstimetoscream/pseuds/itstimetoscream
Summary: The whirlwind romance between Dream, mysterious rich socialite, and George, a young failed businessman who moved to New York for something new. A short and sweet 20s AU.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 6





	in this universe or any other

**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimer: If any of the CCs in this work express discomfort with having fanfiction written about them or specifically about any of this story's contents, I will not hesitate to take it down. Anyway, enjoy the story :)

It was the 1920s, and George had fallen in love. The world was lit up in a way it never had been before, and never would be again. Champagne flowed freely in boisterous parties, and the lights on Broadway seemed to never go out. New York City was all light and color and magical feelings, and George couldn’t help but be caught up in the glamour of it. And in the center of all of that excitement and life and beauty, there was Dream, a man unlike any other, and yet the complete personification of the wild times in which they had found themselves thrust into.

He had first seen Dream at one of the many parties he had frequented that summer. Honestly, George wasn’t even sure which one anymore. He could only recall the intrigue he felt at this first meeting, fascination at the blond pretty-boy with the bright green eyes who had swept into his life with all the decorum of a showgirl and about as much modesty. Dream was a dream in and of himself, a mystery with seemingly overflowing pockets and overwhelming charm. He lived fast and hard, as George would soon find out from all of the whispered comments that followed his entrance into every room. His life was one of glamour of the highest order, and George had immediately wanted in. Dream was a curiosity, a larger than life figure that felt like everything that the twenties had become. And soon enough, George had been swept in with the tornado that was Dream, never to look back.

It had happened at one of the earlier parties that season. George had been behaving quite well for the evening, not drinking too much or getting on the wrong side of anyone, so he still had his faculties about him when Dream first deigned to introduce himself. They were in a manor, closer to the country than to the bustling nightlife that George was used to, but the house was of New Money and George knew the owners, so he had decided to swing in for the evening. It was lucky he had. As soon as Dream, cocktail in hand and gaggle of admirers in tow, waltzed into the room, George was transfixed. It was obvious that Dream could tell too; people who are accustomed to swinging their influence about them with the most practiced carelessness are often the most perceptive on what effect they have on others (of course, there are always those who are fools, but Dream was certainly not one of them.) And Dream, surprisingly enough, seemed to almost take an instant liking to George once he had actually noticed him, striking up an immediate conversation only slightly dampened by his slightly intoxicated state. However, even a drunk Dream was shockingly clever, with wit that could charm even those who were seemingly indifferent to his playboy ways. 

They ended up talking late into the night, filling each other’s glasses with more and more champagne as revelers swirled around them. Then, at what must have been past one in the morning, Dream got up without a word and vanished.

However, George’s first encounter with Dream would certainly not be his last. In fact, Dream arrived in pompous fashion at George’s flat the very next day with nary an explanation before whistling him off on a drive around the city. They must have visited twenty speakeasies before the day was out, each with its own patron bending over backwards to accommodate Dream’s every fancy. Though Dream claimed to have remembered asking George for his address the night before, George would not have been surprised if that was a lie and Dream had simply lifted the address off of some eager admirer instead. Dream seemed to have an endless supply of those; everyone somehow knew the man, and he seemed to know everyone too. George couldn’t help but wonder why such a mysterious man had taken such a fancy to him, but he couldn’t care enough to ask. It was the twenties after all, and life went by too fast with too much noise to bother with silly questions like that. All that George knew was that being with Dream elevated him to superstar level. People started listening when he talked, and he went from being a nobody amongst the crowd to the star of nearly every party he attended. Everyone wanted to know why Dream valued him so highly, but all he could ever respond with was  _ I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. _

It would be far later that summer before George realized why, exactly, Dream kept him around. He should have known, shouldn’t he? They had meshed so well, the extraordinary, mysterious socialite and the young failed businessman who had abandoned his job in order to live as one only could in the greatest city in the world. By all accounts, it made no sense whatsoever. That is, until one fateful day.

Dream had drunk far too much, an impressive feat for a man that could down liquor like it was water. George wasn’t even quite sure how he had managed it. In any case, it came down to George as the responsible, less drunk friend to escort Dream back to his flat in the city. The task seemed herculean, especially when Dream didn’t particularly want to go home just yet. However, George didn’t quite trust Dream to not make a fool out of the pair of them in his supremely intoxicated state, so home they went.

The trouble didn’t stop once they reached the flat, a surprisingly humble little affair near the heart of New York. Dream still didn’t want to leave George’s side, and whilst he was nowhere near belligerent, it was getting rather overwhelming. Finally, after a lot of pushing and bribing, George managed to get his friend inside, where the uncharacteristic behavior didn’t stop.

George was used to a lot of strange behavior from Dream; he was as mysterious as he was charming, and his actions were inexplicable more often than not. However, Dream never acted  _ this _ odd. George wasn’t sure quite what to do with himself when Dream, still looking fantastically elegant in his charcoal three-piece, practically begged George to stay in the apartment with wide, almost pleading eyes. Even more flustering was the way in which Dream kept  _ touching _ him, carelessly, on his shoulders and arms and back and even at one point his thighs. It seemed almost like an accident at first, but George soon realized that the touches had become too frequent to be incidental. Finally, he felt like he absolutely had to confront his friend about the strange behavior.

The answer, shockingly, hadn’t come in the form of words. Instead, Dream leaned over with surprising tenderness before sliding his hand behind George’s neck and pressing their lips together.

George’s entire world, in that single instant, imploded forever.

Kissing Dream was like kissing fire, burning and shifting and changing before his very eyes. Unlike fire, however, Dream was infinitely tender, reverential in his touch in a way that George couldn’t help but be amazed by. George, initially shocked by the contact, swiftly began to reciprocate the kiss. He would have been insane not to; Dream was the kind of man that anyone would have felt lucky to have. And yes, the fascination that had initially led George to Dream may have had something to do with the fact that he was absolutely gorgeous, but George had never dreamed that Dream would ever think of him the same way. He was untouchable, a god amongst men. And yet, there he stood, kissing George like he was drowning and George was the only thing that could save him. George tasted the liquor on his lips, breathed in the cologne and smoke from the fine cigars Dream was always smoking, felt the fine materials of his clothes. Dream’s hands roamed with abandon across the plains of George’s body, and George couldn’t help but mirror the motion. The moment was perfection itself, blazed into George’s memory with every jolt of warmth that flooded his body.

Then kissing became something more, and they solidified their raw new relationship in between satin sheets and feathered pillows. It was sudden, a supernova of a relationship that ignited at a breakneck speed characteristic of the times.

So that was it, then. Everything had become instantaneously clear through that first contact, and only became clearer after every touch they shared. Their romance quickly spilled through closed doors and whispered words late at night into the general ruckus of the New York party scene; Dream was too used to getting his way in every other aspect of life, so why couldn’t he have his way in the relationship world too? Fortunately, Dream was powerful enough that no one would dare cross them, even if openly being homosexual in the 20s was often more dangerous than not. 

And so it went that from the moment when Dream first made his true feelings known, the two were practically inseparable. At every party for the rest of the summer, George could almost always be found on Dream’s arm. They experienced every moment of the flashy, fantastical 1920s together. And when the Depression came, and money ran dry even in the greatest city in the world, they weathered that storm together too. It was George and Dream, a pair, with destinies intertwined like those of two stars in perpetual orbit, brilliant and beautiful and connected. They were mysterious and powerful and belonged to each other completely. All of New York knew it. Everything was as it should be, and George had fallen in love, irreversibly.


End file.
